The Simulation
by keepthewordsflowing
Summary: Each year, 20 teenagers are chosen to enter The Simulation, a televised competition where contestants are put into a simulation and judged on how they react. The cleverest kids in the nation are chosen. This year Marlin has been chosen. Can she succeed?


**The Simulation**

They came in the night. There was no group of friends to hug me goodbye, no parents to stroke my hair and whisper that they loved me. Just the cool night air and the promise of dawn. Their gloved hands lifted me from my sleep, pulling me from a dark abyss of nightmares. I don't know why I didn't fight, why I didn't pull against my capturers. For me, there had always been something beautifully calm about the night, like I was the only person alive. They carried me down the stairs and straight out of the front door, to where a hovercar waited, as quiet as snow falling onto snow. My parents didn't even stir; they were still trapped in their own perfect little worlds. I envied them bitterly. Inside the hovercar, the air was cool yet still. One of the officials that had brought me here closed the door with a loud, satisfying_ clunk_. A strange feeling within the very core of my stomach told me that the heavy door was not to keep something out, but to keep someone in. I stared down at myself, suddenly acutely aware that I was still wearing my pyjamas and nothing else. I snatched a quick glance at the officials, two of them. They were both men, of average build with dark brown hair. Both were dressed head to toe in white, except for the colourful logo emblazoned on their chests. I leaned in closer to have a look. It was an eye with a globe for the pupil, within a circle. A sat back in my seat. That was the unmistakeable logo of The Simulation, the annual televised competition where the brightest young minds were placed into a simulation, and judged on how they reacted. I opened my mouth to speak, but my tongue felt heavy and useless, like a dead fish trapped within a bowl. I shut it again, feeling idiotic. In that moment, I caught sight of the small blue circular disk of paper that had been stuck on the inside of my right wrist. It was a counter. Well, they were actually called Semi-Integrated Membranes, or SIMs, but everybody called them counters because they were the exact shape and size of a plastic counter that you got in children's board games. They had given me a sleeper counter, identifiable by the pale blue colour. So that would explain why I was so groggy. Sleepers were usually given to people that needed calming or had sleeping problems, and had strong numbing effects. Suddenly a wave of tiredness washed over me, and I fought to keep my eyelids open. In an uncertain environment like this, I had to stay awake, yet the low hum of the hovercar was like a lullaby to my ears, and the moment my head connected with the headrest, I was out like a light.

I woke up to a dry mouth and a pounding headache. I was lying on a bed within a small plainly-furnished room. On the dresser beside me was a glass of water, and two pills. I picked them up, and swallowed them down. I had no idea what they were, but immediately I began to feel better, and the sleepy fog cleared from my mind. I was suddenly acutely aware of the situation I was in. I stood up and walked straight to the door, turning the handle. It was locked from the outside. Panic began to set in, and my breathing quickened. I looked around for any object that could identify where I was, but there were none. I sat back down onto the bed, feeling the springs of the mattress strain under my weight. I thought back to what had happened last night. Two men in white clothes had taken me from my bed, to a hovercraft. They carried the logo of The Simulation. I supposed that was why I was here. My breathing slowed down a little, and I noticed a pile of clothes had been left on a chair by the door. I glanced down at myself, realising that I was only wearing my underwear. A blush began to spread across my cheeks as I wondered who could have seen me like this. I lunged for the clothes, which were simple and plain. A black t-shirt with a pair of ridiculously comfortable black combat trousers. Just as I threaded my belt through the last loop of my trousers, the door opened. I jumped back a step unintentionally, staring at the person who stood at the door. A youngish woman was holding an infopod, her tall frame blocking out most of the doorway. Her features were sharp and pointed, and her long mousy hair was pulled back into a flawless ponytail.

Her stone-grey eyes bore into my clear green ones as she said, 'Marlin Carr?' I nodded my head once. 'Follow me please'. She turned on her kitten heel and walked straight out of the room. I ran after her, my bare feet pounding the linoleum floor.

'Excuse me err…miss. Where are we going? Why am I –' She raised a bony hand to shut me off. My mouth shut, and I mumbled out an apology.

'You will find out soon enough,' she replied coolly. I already disliked everything about her, how poised, calm and collected she was. How indifferent. It sickened me to my very core. I followed her down a maze of corridors, each one exactly the same as the next. I realised that if I ever tried to escape, I would never succeed. There were no signs, no people to help you if you needed it. The woman stopped in front of unidentifiable white door. White, just like everything else here. She opened it, and pushed me in. I blinked twice, trying to come to terms with my surroundings. It looked like a small cosy office, with deep red carpets and mahogany bookshelves and large plush velvet sofas. There was a huge gilded mirror above the stone fireplace, and I stared at it. It had that same sheen that the two-way mirror in our drama department at school had. I had the feeling that on the other side was a number of people, watching me. I had to behave cautiously. Sitting behind a large oak desk was a man, opposite in appearance to the woman. He was old, with a gentle welcoming smile and a tuft of snowy-white hair.

He turned to look at the woman. 'Thank you, Isabella. That will be all'. His voice was rich, like a wonderfully delicious hot chocolate on a cold winter's day. Isabella narrowed her eyes, before bowing her head once and walking out. The door made a quiet _click _behind her. Then the man turned to me. 'Welcome, Marlin, welcome! Please, do take a seat,' he said, gesturing at one of the velvet armchairs in front of his desk. I sat down, immediately feeling at ease. 'I'm Professor Horn, but you can call me Thomas. Everybody does.' I stared, unable to come to terms with the surroundings. He gave me a gentle expectant smile.

'Oh yes, of course. Sure,' I stuttered uneasily. 'I…I have a lot of questions as to why I'm here. I was taken out of my bed at night, and it's frightening,' I admitted sheepishly.

'Of course it will be scary, my dear!' he laughed. 'But I'm here to explain everything so please, do feel at ease. Would you like some tea?' Before I could give him my answer, he poured some steaming liquid into a delicate porcelain cup, and then handed it to me. I inhaled the smell of lavender mixed with the unmistakeable punch of caffeine. I took a tentative sip, and warmth flooded my insides. I was thankful for his kind hospitality. 'So, do you have any idea why you might be here?' he asked, leaning forward in his chair.

'Well, I did see the logo of The Simulation on the clothes of the officials who brought me here, so I suppose it has something to do with that.' I bit my lower lip, nervous.

'Right you are, well spotted. As I'm sure you are aware, The Simulation is an annual televised contest where 10 young ladies and 10 young gentlemen are chosen to participate.' He paused to have a sip from his own teacup. 'The contestants are put into a simulated environment, and judged on how they react. The simulations can be absolutely anything, from an average day-to-day situation, to a situation where you are near death. Of course, they aren't real which is why the show is called The Simulation, but of course, the simulations do indeed affect you mentally, and the contestants are eliminated when their mental health deteriorates. The winner is effectively the last person standing. Do you follow me so far?' I nodded once. The Simulation was a wildly popular television program and all my friends watched it, but I had never been too interested in watching teenagers drive themselves insane. 'As you know the contestants are chosen according to intelligence. Only the brightest young minds are chosen to participate'.

He stared at me pointedly, yet I still didn't seem to be getting the point. 'I don't understand why that concerns me being here,' I said.

Thomas sighed, not unkindly. 'You, my dear, have been selected to participate in The Simulation this year! Your test scores are beyond average, and in school aptitude tests you have shown incredible intelligence. Not to mention feedback from your teachers, they were all wildly impressed by your performance in the classroom…' his voice faded out to nothing, and the whole world became still. _Me?_ I couldn't believe it. I was not strong enough to withstand the simulations. I knew that I would be one of the first to be eliminated, screaming like a lunatic. Whatever my fate was at the end of this competition, it was not pretty. A fate worse than death; endless years of insanity, trapped within a room where experts would study me like an animal. '…and, well, this is a great honour for you and your family.' I returned back to the normal world, suddenly realising that I was still being viewed on the other side of the mirror. Thomas looked at me quizzically. 'Oh my dear, are you alright? I'm sorry it's not often that I get to explain something so exciting to a youngster.' I smiled once at him. How could a man so kind and pure be part of such a cruel thing? I felt genuinely sorry for him, that he had to send teenagers like me to their fate.

'So, what happens next?' I asked. 'Do I stay in that room I woke up in?' A thought hit me. That plain featureless room may be the one that I was slowly going to turn insane in, night after night.

He laughed gently. 'No, of course not! You and the 19 other contestants will be moved to a luxury mansion, where you will all live together during your time in the competition. The mansion is truly beautiful, I've been told, but of course I've never had the luxury of going in.'

'I'll let you know what it looks like,' I smiled.

'Thank you! You know, Marlin, I've got a good feeling about you. Young, intelligent, witty, kind. You could do very well for yourself here. Make sure that you use your time wisely.' It was almost as if he was giving me a warning for the future, but I couldn't be sure. He stood up, and so did I, walking to the door. 'Someone will be here to take you to the mansion,' he said.

'When does the competition start?' I asked. He reached for the brass doorknob, and pulled it open.

'Interviews start tonight,' he said. Then he whispered, 'be careful Marlin. Tonight is very important, and you must succeed and win the public over. There will be people out to get you, and you must not let them. Do you understand?' His expression was intense.

'Yes,' I whispered back. My heart was drumming hard against my ribcage. Perhaps he was not as oblivious as he seemed.

He leaned back and put a smile onto his face. 'Your escort is here now,' he announced a little too loudly. 'Good luck, Marlin.' He placed one hand on the small of my back, ushering me out.

'Will I ever see you again?' I asked nervously.

'Perhaps,' he replied, but from his expression I could tell that the answer was no. He knew that I would not be able to win, and that he would not come visit me when I was in some mental hospital. I sighed as I turned around to face my escort, hoping that it was not Isabella. Unfortunately luck was not on my side today.

'Marlin,' she said through a tight-lipped smile. 'I'm sure that Thomas has filled you in, so I will take you to the residence now.' Her navy pinstriped suit ensemble was meticulous, not a crease in sight. I wanted to reach out and smear my hand across it, to see if she would react in any way to me touching her. She walked on ahead, her heels making an incessant clicking noise on the floor that drove me up the wall. _Wear some quieter shoes, woman!_ I wanted to shout at her. 'Now, we have an awful lot to do. Interviews are tonight as I'm sure Thomas told you, and they are of the utmost importance. Depending on your popularity, the simulations can be easier or a lot harder. It can mean the difference between winning and losing, so I want you to win the nation over tonight. They are live, so every word you say counts. You must be likeable,' she turned around to stare at me, 'if you can.' I scoffed, but carried on walking. I was still barefoot, yet the soles of my feet were not dirty at all. How clean did they keep this place? Isabella stopped at a lift on our right. She placed a key into a slot on the side, and the doors opened. 'Step in, please,' she ordered. I did as I was told, clenching my teeth together. She came in after me, and pressed an unmarked button. The doors whizzed shut almost immediately, and the lift flew up into the air. We went up for what seemed like miles, and I realised that we must have been deep underground. Poor Thomas, what a horrible place to have an office. Out of nowhere, the lift jerked to a stop. The doors pinged open, and I found myself in what appeared like a hotel lobby. On one side was a huge desk, with a few men in suits standing behind it. Everywhere was marble, the floors and the walls and the desk. Dotted around the cavernous space were small clusters of leather armchairs, with oak coffee tables and ottoman carpets. I inhaled, taking in the smell of the lilies that seemed to bloom from every corner of the room. On the far side was a cluster of journalists, television crew and paparazzi.

One of them caught my eye. 'Look, it's a contestant!' he shouted. Suddenly the whole crowd descended on me, the bright white flashes of the photographers blinding my eyes. I tried to escape, but Isabella gripped my wrist.

'Hold still,' she said through gritted teeth. 'This is important. Oh, and smile for goodness sake!' I curved my lips into a tentative smile, overwhelmed by the wave of people.

One interviewer came up to me. She was wearing a smart red dress, her blonde hair falling down over her shoulders in perfectly curled waves. As she came in closer however, I could see that her makeup was running and there was a line of sweat across her top lip. 'Hi, Marlin! How does it feel to be the very last contestant selected for this year's The Simulation?' she asked in an overly joyful voice.

'I didn't realise that I was the last contestant,' I replied nervously. She smiled at me, unfazed.

'Oh, well you are! All the other contestants came in two days ago, so you've been quite the talk of the town. Lucky you, all the attention is already on you! How do you plan to wow the audience during tonight's interviews?' She shoved the microphone further under my nose.

'Err, I was just planning on being myself actually,' I retorted.

The interviewer gave a ridiculously annoying laugh. 'Of course, of course! Now, Marlin –' she started, but two officials cut through the crowd and stood on either side of me. The interviewer stepped back, surprised.

'Stand back please, this contestant needs to reach the residence,' said one of the officials, his voice loud and gruff. I was thankful for the rescue, as the officials guided me to the desk. 'This is Marlin Carr,' he said.

One of the men at the desk looked up from what he was doing. 'Marlin Carr, we've been expecting you.' There was a strange tone in his voice as he said that, but I couldn't quite recognise what. 'Follow me, please.' The officials stood by the desk as I followed the receptionist towards another lift that was a set a little back into the wall. He placed his palm on a scanner by the lift, and the doors pinged open. 'Ladies first,' he said calmly. I stepped in. This lift was very different to the previous one. It was beautifully decorated, with mirrored walls and lights inset into the ceiling. We travelled upwards for a short amount of time, before the doors opened. I emerged into what looked like a huge living room. Huge velvet sofas were dotted around, with mahogany coffee tables. In one corner, a giant flat-screen television hung on the wall, bigger than any screen I had ever seen in my life. On the far wall was a giant stone fireplace alight with flames, and right at the back was a full-size pool table. However one wall was completely glass, and looked out over what I presumed must be the capital city. The view was magnificent, and my heart stopped for a moment. Suddenly, a movement caught my eye. I became acutely aware of the 19 other teenagers lounging around the room, every single one of their faces turned towards me unashamedly. Some stared at me as if they could eat me alive, and others held blank expressions. I turned to look at the receptionist, but he seemed to have disappeared.

I took a step forward, wiping my clammy hands on my trousers. 'Err, hi. I'm Marlin.' I scanned the faces, not a single person moved. Then a girl stood up from one of the couches where she had been talking to a boy, and walked over to me. Her hair was like a flame, long and fiery red, and her skin was as pale and as smooth as porcelain.

She broke into a gentle smile. 'Hi, I'm Shae! Nice to meet you. We've been waiting for you for ages, so it's nice to see you eventually.' Her tone was not unkind.

'Yeah, I didn't realise that I was the last one until a reporter jumped me in the lobby and told me so,' I laughed nervously.

'Oh they attacked you too? It was horrible, right? Come on, you can sit with me.' She grabbed my hand and pulled me over to where she was sharing a sofa with another boy. The rest of the teenagers turned back to what they were doing, broken out of their trance. I was thankful for Shae's hospitality, without it I wouldn't have known what to do. 'This,' she said gesturing at the boy, 'is Jared.' He gave me a blinding smile.

I sat down between them, and turned to Jared as he spoke to me. 'So, Marlin, we've been expecting you.' He said, with a hint of cheekiness in his voice. I stared at his face. He really had been blessed with incredibly good looks; golden blonde hair and warm brown eyes. His nose was a perfect curve, and his lips full and sumptuous.

I snapped out of my trance, blushing. 'Oh, yeah. I don't know why they came to get me so late; I mean they only came for me last night.'

'They came in the night?' asked Shae, confused.

'Yeah, I didn't get to say goodbye or anything. They gave me a sleeper as well…'

'That is weird. When I was collected, it was during the day, and my parents threw me a goodbye party! I had been sent a letter about it a few weeks beforehand.'

I creased my brows. Why had they come for me in the night?

Jared leaned closer, and I could feel his breath on my skin. 'Well I heard something about the delay,' he whispered, a glint in his eye.

My whole body tensed up. Shae leaned in over me to hear him better, curious just like I was.

Jared continued, 'I heard that they had originally chosen another girl, but then when they came to collect her she was unable to participate, so they had to find another contestant, quick.'

'What happened to her?' I gasped.

'You all know what happens to us, right? We go insane, a fate worse than death. A permanent life-long torture.' Despite the morbidity of the conversation, he looked like he was enjoying it. 'Well this girl, she knew she wouldn't be able to win. She would rather die than become insane.' He ran his finger across his neck like a knife.

My heart stopped. I turned to look at Shae, whose eyes were wide with fear.

Jared gave me a smile that made my skin crawl. 'You, Marlin, are the girl that replaced the dead'.


End file.
